


I Miss You More

by AshesTheTerrible



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Garrison - Freeform, Grief/Mourning, Loss, Lovers, Loving Sex, M/M, Pre Kerberos, Rough Sex, Secret Relationship, Supportive Relationships, Young Love, male pronouns for pidge, set before Shiro is found to be alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 15:50:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14674356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshesTheTerrible/pseuds/AshesTheTerrible
Summary: The Shiro behind the picture frame glass was perfect. He was the role model of so many. The Garrison Golden Boy.But to Lance he was something different. He was his everything.Now he was gone.And there was just the memorial hanging in the pristine hallway left behind.





	I Miss You More

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imagines](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagines/gifts).



> Here is my gift for the lovely @BeLovedSheith on Tumblr!! Part of the Feeling Black and Blue Shangst exchange! 
> 
> This is before Pidge is found to use female pronouns! Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoy!!

Large fingers drew over the curves of a slender body, tracing every outline thoughtfully. Fingers that had made home here so many times before, countless times. A thumb pressed into the sharp jut of a hipbone, moving to work irregular shapes over sun kissed plains of skin. A shallow breath was drawn down into constricted lungs, the sound shaking as big palms wandered all the secret places normally hidden behind a crisp uniform. 

There in the dark the layers had come away, the perfectly pressed clothing left behind and forgotten in the wake of it all. Just for a moment the masks they wore outside of this space came slipping off, tucked safely in a dresser drawer, hung dutifully on a closet rung. 

A loud gasp took up the space suddenly, a song that the big man only got to hear in moments such as this. The tune was something that had his heart dancing right along to the beat. The organ was racing away like a horse coming forth from the gates and it was to be the first one down the dirt track. His pulse was nothing more than a thunder of hooves. 

Slender fingers grabbed out clumsily, finding the back of his short cropped locks and tangling there meanly. 

The young man allowed the deep sound he’d been trying to swallow to come forth finally. Half a groan and half a name it tasted divine on the thick of his tongue. 

“ _ Oh Lance…” _ He whispered, nose pressed into dark, chocolate locks. 

His partner’s hair was so soft, velvet strands that tickled his lips and the side of his cheek as he kissed the younger man there. 

Lips pulled back over pearly teeth, the white of his smile vibrant in the dark. His grin caught the color of Shiro’s bedside table, red digital letters throwing their playful glow over the two men so helplessly tangled together. 

Shiro shifted, an arm slipping up beneath the arch of Lance’s slender back, digits sliding along each divot of his spine. The older man shifted against Lance, clumsily shimmying his boxer briefs down strong thighs, only to toss them off into an unknown location somewhere in the room. Shiro heard them hit, knocking something off a shelf, causing whatever it was to thud to the floor. He paid it little mind. There were bigger, more important things at hand. 

Lance leaned forward, his arms looping a lazy wreath around Shiro’s neck, hands pressing into the defined tendons, sliding along the arc of the dark haired man’s shoulder blades. 

Their mouths pressed together then, colliding with unbridled want, fireworks having burst far too close to the ground. Lance’s hips rose up off the small mattress, giving his state of arousal away unabashedly as his erection pressed into Shiro’s lower abdomen. Shiro groaned into the kiss upon the sensation and Lance consumed it voraciously. 

Lance’s tongue played lithely along the line of Shiro’s teeth, the two dancing together, chins moving, hands grabbing just a little harder. The slimmer man broke for breath with a satisfying gasp, taking the air down deep and desperate. Shiro kissed the side of his mouth and Lance could feel him smiling against his skin. 

Lance adjusted slightly, one hand wandering the trails of Shiro’s heaving torso, fingertips toying in soft, dark hairs before his ring of fingers snaked around the other man’s girth. Shiro seemed to weaken at the touch, the sound ripped from his chest was clipped and ragged. Lance’s amusement magnified as he stroked his curl of digits upward, traveling his partner’s length, twisting at the end, tugging foreskin over Shiro’s fat, dark head. 

Shiro hid his face in Lance’s neck, lashes kissing together as he screwed his lids closed tight. 

Lance grinned wide and toothy as he dragged his thumb across Shiro’s slit, collecting the damp sensation of leaked pre-come. 

“ _ L-Lance…fuck…”  _ Shiro stuttered into the curve of Lance’s throat. 

Lance beamed. 

“Takashi Shirogane, is that any kind of language to use in front of a Cadet?” Lance mocked playfully. 

The breath from Shiro’s snort of laughter tickled Lance’s skin. 

“Smartass.” Shiro huffed as he gently pinched Lance’s left earlobe between his teeth. 

The words that were about to come forth from Lance’s lips fell dead before they could get passed his canines, conforming into a soft, beautiful little moan that drifted up into the tepid air between them. 

Of all the sounds that came from Lance’s mouth, these were Shiro’s favorite, the noises that went unheard by those outside these closed doors. A shared secret tucked between the pages of their lives. Shiro was a Captain. Lance was a Cadet. They were years and ranks apart…but that hadn’t stopped the undeniable flame to spark and begin to blaze. They’d never meant to start such a fire…but before they’d known it both of them had been engulfed in the heat. The Garrison would frown on such fraternizing between individuals. It would look terrible on Shiro’s part. 

And so these bedroom walls became the hosts of many nights kept very carefully hidden away. The structures wouldn’t ever tell of what went on here. They would never speak of the passionate kisses, of the obscene sounds…of the desperate gasps for breath. They were silent observers. As soon as the doors to Shiro’s dorm room closed, they shed their acts, threw out all decency, allowed it to flutter away into the breeze. Here they were nothing more than two men so young and so new to it all. They were just two boys who were very certain they had it all figured out, as most did at such a fragile age. They were just two young things in love. 

Or what they were pretty sure was love. Stupid and silly…but love all the same. 

Shiro placed a lingering, wanting kiss to Lance’s soft lips. 

“I love you so much.” Shiro whispered. 

Lance’s eyes captured the small amount of light, blue as the skies both of them so hungrily touched during pilot training. 

“I love you too, Shiro.” Lance whispered back. 

The words were so painfully genuine as they were tossed out there like a confident dice roll, the little things clattering across the floor. 

Two quivering breaths were drawn in simultaneously as they became one. With Lance’s body adequately prepared by gentle fingers, slick with cool liquid substance, Shiro’s girth glided against puckered flesh. Tight muscles flexed around the stretch, Lance’s teeth giving passage to a low rumble of a groan.

Shiro’s wide palm gently pressed over his mouth as Lance threw his head back gracefully. Lance whimpered into the familiar flesh as Shiro very slowly pushed forward, an inch at a time, allowing his partner to adjust with each movement. It was a slow dance, Shiro’s breathing unsteady and rough as an asphalt road.

Lance bent beneath his lover, legs dragging Shiro in further, his entire body begging for everything Shiro had to offer and more. Shiro’s lips pressed against his crinkled forehead, Lance’s brows knitted tightly together, creating that little wrinkle of skin between.

Lance felt Shiro smile.

It had been some time since they had tangled themselves together against the mattress.

Lance had missed this.

The way Shiro felt so big within him, the way Shiro’s heart thundered steadily faster with every breath…and the way he whispered how much he loved Lance over and over again when he came, his favorite prayer.

Lance could feel the bigger man press flush to his backside, grinding his girth into Lance’s tightness with a broken growl. The younger man’s eyes rolled back into his head like marbles, a long mewl seeping between Shiro’s big fingers still pressed to his mouth.

Shiro clicked his tongue softly.

“Not so loud Bluebird.” Shiro hushed, the warmth of his breath filling Lance’s ear.

Lance squirmed, hips levitating from the bedding, pressing backward into the strong mass of the other man.

The snap of hips was a steady sound between them, no further conversation other than the pleased moans, the creak of bedsprings and the press of skin.

Lance traced his tongue over the outline of Shiro’s name, whispering it so desperate and tattered.

His fingers dug moon shaped outlines into the pale flesh of Shiro’s back.

The young man succumbed to his looming finish with a jerk of his body and a quiver of his hips. The pleasure lapped over the young man, rolling in wave after wave, like water licking at a sandy shore. Shiro kissed him through his orgasm, collecting every sound, every movement, holding the brunet close and tight, smiling against his lips as Lance’s finish wet the space between their abdomens.

Shiro’s fingers took hold on messy locks, hips searching for Lance’s center, shaking as he crashed into his own end, all the tension snapping, drowning everything else to white noise.

The two huffed rattled breaths into one another.

Lance’s giddy laugh broke the silence.

He hid his face beneath Shiro’s chin.

“Sorry…I was…so fast. It felt…too good.” Lance managed to stutter.

Shiro smiled and pecked a collection of kisses across the crown of Lance’s head.

“I missed you.” Shiro whispered.

Lance hummed.

“I missed you more.”

*****

The news rattled through the Garrison hallways. It ventured through every dorm room, every class and every ship in the bays. It echoed through the wide spaces, it hid in all the corners of cockpits. It came so loud and then it faded away, lingering there amongst the students, a whisper, a reminder.

There was a memorial erected in the main wing.

Photos behind glass frames and beautiful little name plaques etched in gold.

Lance stood before the innocent little things, stock still, as if his feet had been cemented to the very ground he stood upon.

It had been weeks since they had gotten the word. Weeks since they’d lost communication with the ship. But the sections of time had healed nothing. The wounds were still open and raw and disgusting. The wide gashes cut clean across Lance’s heart were festering with infection.

He couldn’t breathe.

_ We’ve lost contact with the Kerberos mission. _

_ The men are assumed dead. _

His throat constricted tight, choking the oxygen out of his struggling lungs.

Students passed around him, paying him so little mind. He was just another nobody that had idolized those that had so bravely ventured farther out into the wilds of space than anybody had before. They went so bright eyed and passionate, so ready to caress the stars and make home in the galaxies.

They didn’t stop for Lance, they kept shuffling by, the space buzzing with conversation of this and that. Students worried about passing their next exam or what was on the menu for lunch. There were hints of gossip trailing behind their teeth, who was dating who, so and so had said such and such. It all seemed so vastly unimportant as it vibrated in Lance’s eardrums.

The lanky man’s eyes flicked upward, looking at a clean cut photo of the dark haired boy, the image blurry as tears welled in his orbs. He was smiling, a smirk if even that, in his uniform, so prestigious and successful. He looked fake behind the glass, so perfect, not a hair out of place.

That wasn’t the Shiro he’d known. That wasn’t the Shiro he’d…fallen in love with.

He’d loved a Shiro who snorted a little when he laughed too hard. A Shiro who snored and hogged the bed. A Shiro with messy hair and a rough, strangled tone when he’d fucked Lance hard and needy. A Shiro that had loved him back.

Lance was cracking, the evidence of a broken heart stirring up from his ribs. He tried to store it away. He tried to fold it up nice and neat and pack it back in its’ suitcase…but everything was falling apart faster than he could gather it.

Lance wiped at his eyes with the heel of his hand fruitlessly.

“I miss you more.” Lance struggled to whisper.

The young man reached out to touch the small divots of Shiro’s name along the little plaque.

_ Takashi Shirogane. _

*****

The three students stood before Iverson’s wrath, taking the brunt of his anger full force to the face. Lance looked at the floor. Well this was just going swimmingly. His first chance at proving himself as more than just a fucking cargo pilot and he’d just fumbled it miserably. He could feel the eyes of the other students on them. They had all messed up of course. Hunk had puked as per usual, Pidge had nearly gotten a concussion and he…well he’d clipped a wing off mid-flight.

Lance groaned.

_ Fantastic. _

They were lined up before the one eyed man, all three in a pretty little row…Lance felt like he was standing before a firing squad. What did it matter anyway? He didn’t care…he just felt…empty. He was trying so hard to feel  _ anything,  _ this is what Shiro would have wanted for him. Shiro would be proud he’d made it to fighter class. At least he thought he would have been proud.

Lance grimaced angrily.

Shiro couldn’t be proud. He was dead. And Lance was all alone.

“These kind of mental mistakes are exactly what cost the lives the men on the Kerberos mission.” Iverson snarled, his lone eye glaring down the three young men.

Pidge’s head snapped upward, fire flickering behind his wide-lense glasses.

“That’s not true!” He snarled stepping forward.

Lance wanted to silence him, but he couldn’t help his own anger threatening to rear its’ ugly head. Shiro didn’t make mistakes. Shiro was the pilot of that mission, there was no way he’d make a mistake that cost his team their lives.

“Excuse me??” Iverson growled, attention directed on Pidge.

Lance balled his fists.

“He said, that’s not true. Because it’s not. Shiro wouldn’t have made mistakes like these. Shiro was better than that sir.” Lance snarled.

Iverson looked taken aback, lip sneering up in distaste for the back talk.

Lance didn’t care about the tongue lashing about to come. He didn’t care about anything.

*****

Lance sat with his knees curled up to his chin. The wide plain of the roof was shrouded in shadow, the light creeping away, slipping beneath the horizon. Lance had left the simulation today with a write up and his leave for the weekend taken away. It didn’t matter anyway. It wasn’t like he had plans.

The young man’s eyes watched the sun sink down low, reds and oranges strewn across the sky like spilled paint.

The sound of footsteps suddenly echoed through Lance’s head. He frowned and turned quickly. He hadn’t known anybody else knew how to get up here…

This had been where he and Shiro would sneak away to sometimes. They would watch the sunset sitting here like nothing else in the world mattered. They’d had nothing but time then. So much time.

Lance was suddenly so aware of the wet rivers cutting his cheeks.

His eyes collided with the familiar form of his teammate.

Pidge.

The shorter boy shoved his glasses upward slightly and looked to Lance with what seemed to be some kind of concern. That was a first for Pidge, who was usually so cut and dry.

“Hey uh…didn’t mean to interrupt…” He huffed walking over to Lance cautiously.

Lance smeared the tears away quickly, only making it that much more obvious that he’d been shedding them in the first place.

“S’alright.” Lance stuttered.

Pidge wandered over and very slowly plopped down next to Lance’s much lankier form.

“Thanks.” The younger said suddenly.

Lance looked at his company and tilted his head.

“For what?” Lance asked.

“For backing me up…I just…get sensitive when Iverson tries to make it seem like it was the men on the Kerberos mission that are at fault…” Pidge sighed.

Lance nodded.

“Yeah…me too.” Lance whispered.

The two sat in a heavy aura of silence for a handful of moments

“They were important to you huh?” Lance asked slowly.

Pidge nodded.

There was more hiding behind the rims of his glasses, he was pondering if he was willing to let Lance in on the secret. Was Lance trust worthy enough? They were teammates but did that justify Pidge letting loose of something he’d been keeping swallowed for so long.

“My dad and brother were on that mission.” Pidge said softly, the words drifting off into the encroaching darkness around them.

Lance felt his heart clench, ceasing it’s beating for what felt like an eternity.

“The love of my life was on that mission too.” Lance whispered.

Pidge turned his head, eyes wide and confused.

Lance let go of a small laugh.

“Don’t worry, it wasn’t your brother…” He snorted softly.

Pidge crinkled his nose.

“Shiro?” Pidge asked very carefully.

Lance nodded, letting go of a big sigh.

“I’ve never told anybody.” He admitted finally.

It felt good to finally just, let it free. He’d held it so close and tight for so long. His fingers were tired and sore. Shiro was gone. He could loosen his grip now. Nobody’s reputation was on the line anymore…

Pidge reached out and put his far smaller arm around Lance’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” He said with a nod.

“I’m sorry too.” Lance replied.


End file.
